


The Secret of Dreams

by lagggie



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Hugs, M/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-06 17:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10340823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagggie/pseuds/lagggie
Summary: Mystery, sadness, suspense.  Adam visits Ronan on a college break, but things don't go smoothly.  Ronan is busy working on a new project, while Adam is distant and silent.  Blue, Gansey and Henry are coming to visit soon, and there's something wrong with the ley-line.





	1. a birdhouse

**Author's Note:**

> Written by two people, in an effort to fill the raven boy shaped hole in their hearts.

Ronan never imagined it could be so simple.  Everything that he had accomplished in his life, which was seemingly insignificant, had come through pain, suffering, a journey.  But Adam.  Adam who was so unknowable was so simple.  Yes, Adam had come from his pain, but  _ being  _ with Adam, was so easy, it hurt.  He leaned his head against the dark steering wheel in his BMW, felt the leather rush to meet him.  The memory pricked at his eyes and without a struggle, he allowed it to play again.

_ “Ronan, why couldn’t you have picked up your phone, once?  I needed you to come and help me when the car broke down.” _

_ “Shit, Adam, if I hadn’t been with Opal in the yard, then yes, I would have.” Silence hit both of them like a tornado.  After a few breaths, the storm continued, the winds taking it to a different direction, the clouds turning deeper with sadness.   _

_ “If you weren’t so busy with Barns every day, maybe we could actually have spent time together while I was on break,” Adam whispered, hurt coursing through his words, through the telephone, bouncing into Ronan’s head. _

_ “You know Barns still needs work.  Stop being an asshole.  You chose to go to college.” _

_ “Tomorrow’s my last day.” Yes.  Ronan knew.  Every second of those words felt worse than any punch he had ever felt before.  “Ronan, we’re not going to see each other again for another three months!  We had a whole month together, and you wasted it dreaming.”  He couldn’t respond.  Every time, he could never find the right thing to say, the words that would make Adam stop and forgive him.  “I’ll be home by six.”  The phone buzzed in his ear, signaling that Adam was gone. _

Ronan opened his eyes, and leaned back in his seat, exhaling silently.  He opened the door, stepped out and locked the car.  It was 6:17.  The light was slowly fading, but the bright fireflies whisked around him, a fire in the night.  He passed the spot where his father was beaten to death and reached the door.  Standing there, fingers sprawled against the wood, staring at the doorknob, knives piercing his stomach.  Adam would be standing there.  Waiting to accuse him again, light eyebrows furrowed with anger that made Ronan love him more, even though it tore his heart every time Adam spoke the last words of every argument they had ever had.  “ _ I’m leaving again.” _

He cracked the door.  “Parrish?”  The lights were dim in the house.  Stepping into Barns was like leaving the real world and entering one of Ronan’s dreams.  He studied the newest addition of the living room.  A picture of Adam and Ronan hugging Opal, the first day when Adam was on break and they were in the yard.  Passing into the kitchen, he saw that Adam had not eaten yet.  Now living by himself, he had learned how to cook proficiently.  The stove was still on, with the stew he had prepared two hours ago.  It was his favorite-a combination of alcohol and his Irish heritage.  It should be ready by now.  Ronan filled three bowls with the rich soup and set them in their dining room.  

The door to Ronan’s room was open.  The curtains were swept open, blowing gently back and forth as the fan blew overhead.  He found Adam asleep on the dark blue covers of the bed, dusty hair messy on the pillow and wearing his Aglionby sweater.  Opal was laying against Adam’s chest, his arms hugging her to him.  Without a word, Ronan crossed the room and settled down on the bed next to Opal, tenderly brushing her hair with his hand.  She opened one eye, gave him a sleepy smile and returned to her dreams.  “Shithead,” he said affectionately.  Ronan sat there, in contented silence, at peace with Adam for a brief time, thinking. 

_ I need to work on the shed.  I need to re-attach some of the shingles on the roof so Opal doesn’t hurt herself the next time she climbs up there.  Opal...should I send her to school?  What if someone discovers who she is though?  Better if I keep her here with me.  Adam is going back tomorrow.  Tomorrow.  I should visit Matthew in D.C. but Declan.  That fucker.  Gansey and Blue and Henry are going to be coming back to Henrietta soon.  They said they’re coming to visit.  I have to buy food for them.  Tomorrow.  I need to dream Henry something for his wrist… A wristband with healing oil will do.  Tomorrow. _

“Ronan?”  Adam whispered, blinking, trying to find Ronan’s gaze.  Careful not to disturb Opal, he withdrew his arms and sat up.   Ronan stared into Adam’s dirt brown eyes, made black in the dusty low light of the room, tearing him apart and putting Ronan back together at once.

“Parrish.”  Adam sat up wearily, trying to shake off the sleep that had gladly clung to him.

“Let’s go downstairs.”  They went downstairs.

Adam sat down at the dark stained kitchen counter next to Ronan, rubbing his eyes.  Ronan stared down into his now-cold stew, which had been retrieved from the dining room.  

“What time is it?” Adam asked, his bowl also untouched.  He pulled a hand through his now-mussed up hair and sighed tiredly.

“6:54.”

“Jesus,” he swore, sounding exactly like Gansey.  “I haven’t packed yet.”

“Don’t.”

“Ronan,” Adam said warningly.

“Not yet, Adam.  Please.”  Ronan looked intensely at Adam, imploring him to stay now.  “Eat your dinner at least.”

“Ronan, you know that I have to go back.”

“I know, just eat with me instead of packing.  That’s what I meant.” But he didn’t and Adam knew that he didn’t.  

“Alright,” he consented.  Ronan got up, took both of their bowls, and put them in the microwave.  “Opal and I painted a birdhouse today.  You know, I thinks she really has a gift with painting.”

“Really?” Ronan replied absentmindedly.  He was thinking about their fight.  “How so?”

“Well, the colors she picked first were unique and she painted beautiful designs.”  Adam stood and fetched the birdhouse, which was indeed pleasing to look at, with purple, orange, yellow and light blue woven through it, swirling designs covered the outside,  the windows painted with scenes of Henrietta.

“She made this?  Shit,” he said quietly, studying it carefully.  The microwave timer went off, snapping the pair back to reality. This time, Adam got up to fetch the now steaming hot bowls.  They ate in silence.   _ So little time left.   _ Adam made a face as the too-hot soup seared his tongue. He set the bowl aside and folded his hands neatly in his lap. 

Ronan stood.

“Ronan,” Adam said suddenly, standing, too.  He said Ronan as if saying “please.”  “You know what I was thinking of?”  Without waiting for a response, he continued, “The first time we kissed.  On your birthday.”  Ronan closed his eyes.  He was also thinking of this.  “Well, that night, I told Gansey.” Ronan was not thinking of this.  His eyes opened.  “He told me-he told me not to break you.”  Adam met Ronan’s gaze so sadly, it hit Ronan, just like a crippling punch.  “Am I breaking you?  We fight so often, am I worth it?  Are we  _ worth _ it?  I don’t know if-I can’t-”

“Adam.”  A long silence expanded, filling the room with quiet.  Quiet fear, radiating from Adam, quiet happiness from Ronan.  He felt something in him release.  This time, he didn’t need words to make him stay.  He kissed Adam, and he could feel Adam’s relief, his own relief.

Adam broke away, sucking in air.  “I’ve still got to go.”

“I know,” Ronan replied, and then kissed him again.  His mind went silent and all of his worries disappeared in raging storm of bright and blinding emotions.  Adam withdrew and wrapped his arms around Ronan’s chest in a tight hug. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Adam’s slowly-fading Henrietta accent was very prominent with misery, his breathing heavy with the effort of keeping tears back.  

“I know.”  _ I’m gonna miss you too.   _ Adam knew.  He always knew.

“Wait.” Pulling his arms back, Adam gazed up at Ronan, startled, eyebrows slanting in confusion.  He leaned back against the counter, hand pressed against his face, fingers touching his temple and thumb under his cheekbone.  

“Parrish?”  

“Something’s wrong with the ley line.” 


	2. secret (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan and Adam fix the ley-line together.

Adam didn’t want to tell Ronan. It wasn’t an option. Telling Ronan would be like releasing a tiger shark into a tiny pool of swimming, innocent fish. The shark would devour the little blue and black fish without realizing the damage it was doing to their flesh, ripping it with viciously sharp teeth. Soon the shark would have finished and the pool would now be much bigger and shimmering, shimmering, shimmering. Shimmering with the scales of all of the corpses. And Adam was the tiger shark. Ronan would be the fish. No, it was not an option.  
“Parrish? Get your head out of the clouds.” Ronan caught Adam’s gaze, eyes glimmering mischievously in his firefly lights. They were trekking through the forest behind the Barns, a muddy path made for someone with no self-consciousness about appearance.  
“That's what you do for a living,” Adam replied with humor, forcing a turn up of his mouth, a bad imitation of a smile.  
Ronan glared without malice at him, all soft and rounded in the light. “Stop looking like you're fucking dying. You don’t look pretty with that smile.” Adam just gave him a withering glance, all sharp edges and knives in the darkness.  
“Don't be an asshole.”  
“Just merely making conversation,” Ronan said cheerily, flipping him the bird pleasantly.  
“Just shut up, I need to listen.” Ronan snickered but fell into silence, the only noise a subtle crunch of boots on leaves or the humming of the branches fighting in the sky. The forest was kind tonight, full of gentle, curving shadows of trees, and a full moon ahead. Death wailed underneath of Ronan’s shoe as leaves were pulverized. Relishing the noise, he just stomped in the foliage harder. He felt free and Adam could tell. Adam closed his eyes, fingertips trailing against ridges and crevices in bark, feet sliding over slick mud patches. Ronan’s new Cabeswater did not call to him like it had before, but it still needed favors. Tonight, it something had used up its energy and it needed help catching its breath. Adam rubbed his thumb over the top card in Persephone Poldma’s tarot deck, which was resting in his left hand, sweaty from clutching them so hard.  
“ Ronan.” Adam turned to Ronan, who had stopped walking was looking at the moon, dream firefly resting in his palm, long, thin fingers facing upward, a makeshift cup. Ronan tilted his head to the right to signal he was listening. They had stopped in a grassy clearing which seemed to have adopted more mud than the rest of the forest. The trees rimmed the space, creating an unnatural circle where the sky was a halo above them.  
“We need to move those rocks about ten feet.” Adam motioned fluidly to a set of about twenty rocks, each as large as a bale of hay.  
“That's going to be a shitload of fun.” The firefly flew back into the air and Ronan walked over to where Adam was standing. He grabbed one end of the rock balancing on top of the pile, a monster of a rock, twice as large as all the others. The King. It had been six months since they'd found Glendower dead. Six months since Gansey died and Adam tried to kill Ronan. Adam would never forget the way his fingers clasped so effortlessly to the soft, vulnerable skin of Ronan’s neck. The pulsing of his carotid artery underneath his deadly fingertips. Ronan’s words, “Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit,” whispered in his hearing ear as his heart danced in his chest. No, he would never forget. Adam shook his head, shaking away the thoughts. He lifted the other end and hoisted the rock off of the top of the pile. Panting, they moved the king across the clearing, 20 feet away. Immediately, Adam felt the ley line’s energy balance again. By the time they had finished, the King had been buried under the rocks on which he had stood. Put to rest, finally, mused Adam.  
“Now that that shit is done, you gotta pack, Parrish.” Ronan was across from Adam, arms crossed, shoulders thrown back like he was defending himself. “What are you doing here?” This was not directed at Adam. It was to a small girl with a skullcap and hooves. “Opal, go back to the house now, you little fucker.” Opal simply gave a mischievous smile and scampered away into the trees, kicking up leaves and mud as she went. “Are we done?” Ronan asked, watching after Opal.  
Adam responded absently, still feeling the energy line pulsing below him, humming in his hearing ear: “Yes.”  
“You still have to pack.” Ronan turned and began trekking through the mud covered path. Adam watched as Ronan picked his way through the bushes, always keeping an eye on Opal as she bounced through the underbrush. She latched onto Ronan’s leg. She blinked innocently up at him, her trusting eyes tugging at something inside him.  
“I’m going to miss her,” Adam said, leaning down and ruffling Opal’s hair. She shook happily, a wide grin spreading across her face. She hummed happily and let go of Ronan’s leg, wandering back into a nearby bush. Adam sighed, and Ronan noticed glittering tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  
“Goddammit, Parrish, are you really crying?” he said, exasperated. Adam laughed, but it was a forced, ugly noise. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.  
“I’m fine,” he said, the words accompanied with a hiccup.  
“No, you’re clearly not,” Ronan replied, folding his arms across his chest. Adam hiccuped again, his arms falling loosely to his sides.  
“Come here,” Ronan said, wrapping his arms around Adam and tightly pulling him against his chest. Adam went limp and buried his face into Ronan’s shoulder. He was shaking slightly.  
“I can’t believe this is happening again,” Adam whispered, not trusting himself to speak any louder. Ronan gave no response. He tightened his grip around Adam’s bony shoulders. “Only three more months.” The darkness had wrapped itself around them, enveloping them in a cool hug. An owl screeched, a deer leaped over a log, crackling leaves, silent forest.  
“I don’t want you to leave,” Ronan murmured into Adam’s ear. Adam could hear the quiet hitch in his own breath and willed himself to be silent. For Ronan. Adam pulled himself away, heat from their embrace escaping into the mist and grabbed Ronan’s hand. Steadying himself, Adam exhaled and looked at Ronan. No longer hugging Adam, he was staring resolutely forward, and even in the darkness Adam could picture his blue eyes hardened under dark brown lashes. They walked slowly through the woods, silently through the fields, tall grasses brushes their legs, silently into the house. They were silent as they tucked Opal, bleary eyed and whimpering, into bed, except for Adam’s “goodnight sweetheart,” and Ronan’s “night.” Silent as they wandered back down the stairs and into the living room. Only then did Adam risked a glance. Immediately, he made eye contact with Ronan. Again, silence. Choking, unbearable, but it was the best that both of them could do. Finally, Adam broke the silence. But he still wouldn’t tell Ronan. Couldn’t tell him. He could do this, though.  
“I guess we’re just going to have to do the best we can.”


End file.
